


The Viper and the Hunter

by AdikaOfMandalore



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV), The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Baby Yoda is from the fairy realm, Gen, He has to catch her, Inspired by The Witcher, Mando is a knight, Medieval Star Wars, Not Proofread, Reader is a trained assassin, The Witcher AU, We Die Like Men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:13:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26954902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdikaOfMandalore/pseuds/AdikaOfMandalore
Summary: You lunged at him with a feral growl, but he was apparently waiting for you and met you halfway, crushing you on the ground under his armoured body.Blocking his gloved punch, you encircled his hips with your legs and pushed down, connecting your bodies and taking him by surprise. That was enough for you to knock him over and you smiled, victoriously, steadying yourself for your last lunge.No more games.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Female Character(s), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You
Kudos: 25





	The Viper and the Hunter

The Viper, she was called. A retired assassin that made a few too many enemies during her active years, perhaps foolishly thinking she could just walk away from her numerous killings – no consequences, no bloodthirsty sons and wives that wanted to see her head on a spike. 

A risky job that not a single soul, among the Guild members, felt daring enough to take, despite the abundant reward growing with each passing month. Not a single soul, except for the faceless silver knight, Din of Mandalore, that desperately needed those pieces of gold, now that he had to take care of that little goblin, while travelling the three kingdoms of Terra, looking for the fairy court, their supposed home. 

The former magistrate Karga tried, in vain, to talk him out of such feat, because, yes, he was his hirer, but he was, above all else, his friend and wasn’t at all happy to see one of his dearest companions walk right into a suicide expedition. And for what? A little, magic creature that wasn’t even human? No, he couldn’t let this happen, golden coins be damned! 

They fought all night, Karga even threatened of throwing Din in prison until he’d came back to his senses, but the knight was irremovable and, left the ancient child at the cares of the maiden Peli, he mounted his steed and left for the village of Sorgan, where the Viper was last seen.

-

«Sir innkeeper! – you called, idly sprawled on your bench, eyes glinting in the dim, torch lights of the tavern like a sky of diamonds. – More of this sweet mead! And bring me a soup of krill, while you’re at it!» you ordered, once you got the attention of the old, fat man behind the counter. 

The owner of that Makers-forsaken dive grumbled under his breath, but, as much as your loud self was annoying him and the rest of the patrons – a sparse group of farmers stopping for dinner before returning to their homes – nobody dared to tell you anything. Your reputation was preceding you, apparently.

You sighed and propped your feet – hugged in knee-high black boots of the softest leather – on the table, momentarily closing your sharp eyes. 

The boredom was really starting to get to you and you were oh so tempted to go back to your lucrative job. And you were sure the requests for your services would immediately shot up to the stars above, because men would forever be the same; as much as they liked to claim any kind of moral and modesty, they were always ready to pay and make impossible promises just to get rid of a rival or a somebody that offended them in public, just to make an example out of them. 

You walked among them long enough to know that, as soon as you announced you were no longer in retirement, the offers of jobs would have submerged you.

But did you really want to go back to that? Was killing really your only aim in life? Was that all you were? You liked to think that wasn’t it, that just because you had been raised to become one of the most deadliest assassins of your time, you were more than that, but the bloody monster of Exegon “disappeared” for seven months, now, and no bigger purpose crossed your path, yet, only boredom, dissatisfaction and people that treated you like a leprous. Keeping a wide distance from you, too afraid and disgusted by the Viper. 

One of the waiters, the youngest daughter of the host, no more than eleven, quickly dropped your order and scrambled away from your table. When you were about her age, you already accomplished your first commission, your teacher made you kill a man in his sleep, and here she was, terrified of you, even though you always, no matter what, refused to even pinch the cheek of a kid.

“Fuck it. Fuck ‘em. Fuck the Ancients. I write my own destiny. I am more than just a killer, I know I am.” You gritted your teeth and gulped down a good half of the lukewarm mead, before nursing the tankard with nervous hands.

By the end of the evening you were lost in thought and as much as tipsy your metabolism would allow you to get, but you immediately tensed up when a silver silhouette stopped in front of the recess you were wasting your night away in.

«A knight of Mandalore – you mused, only slightly slurring your syllables, setting down your drink and cocking an eyebrow in his direction. – So you’re not mere fables of a reign long since lost in the fires of the Great War. How fortunate of me to meet one. And unexpected, yes. Let me offer you a beer, one legend to another. Lord!» you called, even though you already noticed the fat man was nowhere in sight. Along the waiters and the few clients that still remained. 

Of course. They probably were the one that sold you out in the first place. 

You spat and sat upright, hands drumming lazily on the wooden, sticky surface of the table, studying the warrior before you with half-lidded eyes.

«Are you mute or something?» you eventually sighed, growing bored by him just… standing there and supposedly staring at you. Hard to tell with his face completely covered in that silver helmet of his. 

You got up and, impudently brushing past him, reached and hopped behind the counter to serve yourself. A pint of mead for you, one of ale for your new, silent companion. 

The knight moved towards you and set a piece of parchment on the table now separating your bodies. Your heightened senses perceived his smell, a mixture of horse, metal and cinder soap. So undeniably human. You smirked sadly and downed your warm drink, before looking closely at the paper, already knowing what you would have found.

«Oh, that! – you snorted, adjusting the black head garment covering almost entirely your hair and ears. – Makers, I hate that portrait; they never get my nose right!»

«I can bring you in warm. – He made a show of caressing the long sword at his side. – Or I can bring you in cold.» He had a nice voice, even though it was greatly muffled and distorted by the helmet. So much so that it could very well have been a woman, under there. But you highly doubted it. You were trouble, the lethal kind, and only a fool would’ve looked for it. Women were smarter than that.

«So he talks! Listen, my shiny friend, I don’t kill anymore, so just take your beer and leave me be. If it’s derision and mockery you fear, well, fear them not, because they may very well give you a little reward just for trying to catch me. Who knows, some bard could even write a poem about the fool knight that thought he could… what did you say? “Bring in cold” the Viper. – You dropped your voice a few octaves to mimic him. – Apologies, if you are not a man, under that pretty armour of yours, but women are just not that stupid to try such a feat.»

«And what would the bard sing?» the faceless knight played along, much to your amusement, completely dismissing your last statement. You didn’t miss how he kept inching forward, perhaps thinking of taking you by surprise. “Buffoon.” 

You let him play, anyway, and have your fun. Perhaps that’s exactly what you needed to fight away the boredom, to go back in tracks.

«I am no bard, but I suppose something along the lines of-»

He lunged for you faster than you expected for someone so covered in steel, but you were ready and nimbly jumped out of the way and on top of the table, kicking him in the exact centre of the helmet and sending him on the floor covered in straw, booze and whatever those other fluids were. You let out a silvery laugh and waited for him to get back on his feet.

«I have no time for your games, Viper. You’re coming with me, one way or another.»

«Well then, knight of Mandalore. If you really want me, come and get me!» And, with that, you were jumping down the counter and darting out of the door, into the humid night of Sorgan.

A curse and the warrior – or bounty hunter – was right behind you. 

You slowed down and waited for him to join you, before turning around, a swirl of black and a cocky grin, and faced him, arms behind your back. His armour was glinting under the moonlight and you wondered how long it would take for him to notice your skin glowing argent and unnatural under the night sky.

«Let’s dance, Mando» you smiled, while studying your surroundings. Not a soul around, but, then again, the old inn was quite far from the village itself and the few people around were wise enough to hide away and let the two of you be.

«I’m not playing your stupid games, Viper» your nameless opponent spat back, long sword now in his right, gloved hand.

You made a face, waiting once again for his short temper to kick in, but he clearly was a quick learner and stalled, simply observing you from behind the dark, unreadable visor. 

It was unsettling, you had to admit, not being able to see his reactions and prevent his actions from there. But also…

«Boring» you huffed, two slim knives appearing in your hands from your flowing sleeves, before correcting your footing, ready to attack.

«Tell me, do you have a family? Someone to come and pick you up or at least pay for a good healer? Because I won’t kill you, but you won’t be leaving this place in one piece either.»

«Are you always this cocky?» he sighed, loudly annoyed.

«Only with tin cans that really believe they can turn me in.»

«You talk quite a lot, for being such a great assassin.» He moved, a fraction of a millimetre, but it was enough. 

You lounged at him with a somersault. He parried with a low grunt and shoved away, before attacking back. The force of the blow reverberated through your crossed arms, but you simply bared your teeth in a wolfish smile, wide enough to show a hint of pointy canines. Too sharp to be human.

«Retired – you reminded him, dancing away from his next, fast moves. The point of his sword even managed to cut one of your cheeks. Oh, he was good! You brushed the drop of blood before he could see its colour. – And I am, I must say, quite lonely. Not many people feel like sharing a conversation with me, these days.»

«Wonder why» he deadpanned. You decided, in that moment, that you liked him. Not that it would’ve made a difference.

You let him know that much, while pirouetting over him and enclosing his neck within your legs. You both tumbled on the dusty ground and you tightened your hold, nearly suffocating him, but stopping expertly from actually doing so. You wanted to teach him a lesson, not kill him. 

The Mandalorian knight let go of the long sword – now useless – in order to punch at your thighs. Harshly, the bastard!

«Stop thrashing around, Mandalorian!» But he eventually freed himself and, with a swift movement that, admittedly, you didn’t expect, he parred your next attack and you lost your grip on one of your blades. You lunged at him with a feral growl, but he was apparently waiting for you and met you halfway, crushing you on the ground under his armoured body. Blocking his gloved punch, you encircled his hips with your legs and pushed down, connecting your bodies and taking him by surprise. That was enough for you to knock him over and you smiled, victoriously, steadying yourself for your last lunge, no more games.

You saw the glint of silver too late and, a moment later, you were scrambling away with a whimper, the knife still stabbing your left calf, white blood sipping through the leather and at your feet. 

The sole of his boot collided with your face and, once you were down, pressed on your sternum, preventing you from jumping back up. You spat and trashed around, face flushed with embarrassment and actual anger. 

And pain, your wound throbbing due to the silver quickly contaminating your blood.

The knight moved his foot away, but quickly replaced it with the rest of his body, when he sat on your chest, your arms trapped under his legs, and, grabbing one of your owns daggers, pressed it against your jugular. You refused to look away and stared at him with gritted teeth instead. And that, apparently, was when he eventually noticed your skin glowing argent and the milky blood covering your pants.

«You’re not human.» he stated, breathless, taken aback, the shock clearly showing even through layers of hide and steel.

«Of course not!» you exclaimed, outraged despite your current situation and the poison cursing in your veins.

«You are from the fairy court. You are one of them» he continued, as if he didn’t hear you.

«You talk quite a lot, for one that’s about to kill someone» you mocked, out of breath, dark spots engulfing your line of sight.

«I’m not going to kill you» Din muttered, letting go of the weapon.

«Yes, you are! You’re not cruel enough to let the silver do it. And, even if you were, by the time the poison will reach my hearts, my body will be so unrecognisable, that they won’t give you a fucking penny. So end me now, c'mon!»

«No.»

«Fuck you!» And now you were no longer able to hide the fear of dying by the hands of the silver toxins released with each passing second in your bloodstream. The worst possible death for one of your kind.

You closed your eyes with a pained sob and that’s when the weight of his body lifted from your chest. 

You still had a stiletto hidden in your right boot, but you made no move to grab it and kill the knight. Perhaps that was your fate, after all.

«I thought the portals for the fairy court were sealed.» Was his next comment, strangely soft and thoughtful.

«Bullshit. They’re just very well hidden from humans» you snickered.

«Tell me where they are.»

«I don’t think so.»

«Tell me!» he barked, grabbing you by the throat, the pressure cutting what little air you were breathing off. You rolled your eyes backwards and he quickly let go with a curse.

«And give away my reign to you bastards? Didn’t you humans already take away enough from us?» you coughed, folding on one side to throw up the mead and the soup, alongside a white, viscous substance. Bad, very bad. You didn’t have much time left, it seemed.

«You don’t understand, I need to find the court.» And you didn’t miss how desperate he sounded, almost as if begging you.

«You can stick your needs up your ass, Mandalorian.»

«You’re not dying on my watch, Viper» he then growled, before you felt him taking off your boot and grab firmly your pulsing ankle.

«You shouldn’t have stabbed me with silver, then.» You let out a hollow laugh and closed your eyes, flinching when his fingers quickly pulled out the dagger and felt around the deep cut.

«The portals, Viper. Where are they?»

«You really expect me to sell my own people to a man? Fuck you and let me die.»

«You’re selling your people to one of your people.»

That last sentence gave you pause.

«The hells are you talking about?» you hissed, confusion dripping with each word.

«I don’t want to enter your reign for your riches or whatever. I just want to bring a kid back to his family.»

«What?»

«You heard me. And you are my only way to do so, apparently. So you’ll live and show me how to take them home. Is that clear?»

You shook your head and immediately regretted it when a new wave of nausea put you under.

Could that really be the purpose you’ve been looking for all along? He could very well been lying, of course, but, if that’s the case, you wouldn’t hesitate to kill him, this time. But who would be foolish enough to help and medicate an enemy?

«I can’t believe my fate is to help a man. Of all things!» you eventually sighed, closing your eyes in disbelief and letting him dress your wound with a piece of cloth he cut away from your own black tunic. That would have been enough to stop the bleeding and, now that the silver was no longer inside you, you could already feel your blood starting the slow, draining process of purification.

«What?»

«Never mind that… Fine, silver knight, I’ll help you in this quest.»


End file.
